We'll never know how flowers die.
Withering within,
they never cry aloud their sighs,
or beg forgiveness for their sins.
We'll never know how flowers suffer,
torn from ground in summer storms,
freezing from the chills in autumn,
buried beneath the winter snow.
We'll never know how flowers feel
abandoned all alone
on the foreign hostile fields
among the evil thorns.
We'll never know how flowers long
for drop of water, bright and sunny sky...
We'll never find what hides behind their silence.
We'll never know how flowers die.

P.S. Women are flowers. ♥